Illusions
by Greenfellow
Summary: Nobles of Rhovanny have come to talk trade with Zachary, but someone in the Rhovan entourage has an ulterior motive for visiting... Before Yates knows what's hit him, he's been drugged, kidnapped, and forcibly tango'd with (not necessarily in that order). Danger, deceit, and (some) Fastion!
1. Chapter 1

Nobles of Rhovanny have come to talk trade with Zachary, but someone in the Rhovan entourage has an ulterior motive for visiting... Before Yates knows what's hit him, he's been drugged, kidnapped, and forcibly tango'd with (not necessarily in that order). Danger, deceit, and (some) Fastion!

Takes place after the events of The High King's Tomb, and obviously before the events of Blackveil. Mostly follows Yates. Some Karigan, some Mapstone, some Zach and a little Estora. An unnecessary amount of Fastion in proportion to what this story demands, because I sort of like that guy.

Genre: Kind of humor, because it's Yates, but also kind of edgy adventure and h/c and fantasy. I'm not encouraging any pairings here, except acknowledging the whole Karigan/Zachary thing, which is inevitable.

_Beuford, Carding, and Trischt are my own characters inspired by Kristen Britain's works. The world and characters around them are part of and property of Kristen Britain's Green Rider franchise and I claim no ownership of all that good stuff_.

* * *

**ILLUSIONS**

**1: Mapstone**

"Evening, riders," said Mapstone as she stepped into the common room. The hearth was stoked to full capacity and a handful of Riders were gathered in front of the fire, playing Intrigue and drinking from steaming mugs, all things that Mapstone hadn't had time for during the last busy week. She eyed one of the empty lounge chairs with not a small amount of longing.

"Care for a sit-down, Captain?" asked Tegan. "Mug of – "

"No, no thank you," Mapstone said, interrupting. She didn't want to know what they were drinking. If it was anything with alcohol she wouldn't have the willpower to resist. "This is business."

Collectively, the riders' faces fell. Mapstone allowed an inner smile. _Now who's here? _Mapstone thought, and did a quick scan of the room. Tegan, of course. She was sitting next to Garth, who was teaching Ben to play Intrigue. Karigan had a book of ledgers open across her lap but it looked to Mapstone that she'd been too preoccupied with throwing bits of fire kindling at Yates to get much of the paperwork done. Yates had his sketchbook open and was wearing his knavish grin and Mapstone could only imagine what she'd just walked in on. Fergal looked like he'd been trying to study his numbers but was far more entertained by whatever it was Yates was drawing. Osric, eyes closed, was curled in one of the armchairs, a wad of bloodied gauze clutched limply in one hand and a compress in the other, which he pressed to his jaw. Mapstone raised her eyebrows but figured Ben must have the situation under control, whatever the situation was.

"As you all probably know," Mapstone began, and Osric's eyes drifted open, "a contingent from Rhovanny arrived yesterday. We're throwing them a party tonight before they leave in the morning. They've requested that the King's messengers be represented."

"At the party?" asked Tegan, eyebrows furrowed. The other riders looked on in mild confusion.

"Yes, they want a Green Rider at the party tonight."

"Why?" asked Fergal. Mapstone sighed.

"I don't know, really. Lord High Treasurer Beuford said that someone in his party wants to talk to one of the messengers. He seems rather tickled by the concept of a royal messenger service." _Seems rather tickled by a lot of things,_ Mapstone added to herself. Lord Beuford was a pleasant enough fellow, but he'd come across as a bit drafty in the head. "One of you needs to volunteer. Obviously I'd been hoping that Ty would be around…"

"Ty'll be back from Coutre province tomorrow noon, if all goes well," said Karigan.

"Why don't you go, Captain?" asked Tegan. "You could use a party."

"Are you kidding? All those nobles flouncing around with their pinkies in the air, I think I'd rather muck out the stalls. I'm going to bed after this. It's been a long day of meetings. Besides which I look like I haven't slept in days, which is true. Whoever goes has to put on a good face to represent the Green Riders."

Briefly, the common room was silent, as the riders all eyed each other.

"I've got a nightshift in the mending wing in fifteen minutes," said Ben. "Sorry."

"Last time I had to be around that many aristocrats I had a panic attack," shuddered Tegan. "Too stuffy."

"I'd probably say something stupid and accidentally start a war," said Fergal, and both Mapstone and Karigan chuckled, neither denying the probability of his statement.

"Sorry, Captain," said Garth. "I promised Connly I'd do prep duty at dawn while he's away. I should get to bed tonight."

"Urgh," said Osric from his chair.

"Osric's quite drunk," said Ben sheepishly, as if it were his fault. Mapstone sighed, though she'd known it wouldn't be an easy task to recruit a rider for such a task. Her eyes settled on Karigan, who met the Captain's gaze with a look of incredulity.

"Sir Karigan," Mapstone said, "as part of your new title, it would be proper to you to volunteer your presence at such an event."

"I'm busy," Karigan said, horrified. She gestured down at the ledger.

"You didn't look very busy when I walked in here."

"Well I am now," she said with resolution, and held up the ledger. "See? See all the work left to be done?"

"Right… That can wait. This party is happening _now._ Up, Sir Knight; your realm needs you." Karigan made a spluttering noise and Mapstone laughed. "I know it's not your thing," she continued, "but you've done less desirable things in the recent past."

"Hardly," Karigan muttered, and shut the ledger on her lap. "Fine, but I can't guarantee any smiles."

"You'll be representing the Green Riders, Karigan, I should hope you wouldn't want the Rhovans to believe we're a bunch of dour, lemon-faced curmudgeons." Mapstone's comment drew another resigned groan out of Karigan.

"I'll go and I'll smile, but Yates has to go too."

"Karigan G'ladheon, are you finally taking me on a date?" asked Yates.

"No, you nit, I'm asking for a diversion. I shall perish of boredom if I go alone."

"Suit yourselves," said Mapstone. "The more the merrier. A word in the hall, please." Mapstone walked out into the corridor, which seemed downright cold after having been near the common room hearth. Karigan and Yates followed close, and behind them the rest of the riders resumed what they'd been doing.

"All you have to do," Mapstone said, turning Karigan and Yates, "is look and act nice. King Zachary has been trying to get Lord Beuford here for years to arrange a stronger trade relationship. The king's last invite explained that he wanted stronger merchant ties between Sacoridia and Rhovanny especially now, as the impending threat of Mornhavon's return will be met more solidly from a unified force of countries rather than fractured groups."

"We want them to go away with a good impression of Sacoridia and its denizens, then, I suppose," said Karigan.

"Yes, this will be full-on, shameless ingratiation," said Mapstone, without humor. "This trade agreement is very important to King Zachary. So far everything is going well; this could be key to a more unified Rhovanny and Sacoridia. The Rhovans want a party and for whatever reason they want a Green Rider there. Represent well. Cater to their whims. Flatter them, whatever you have to do. I know aristocrats can be pains in the neck but just for tonight pretend that their happiness is your main concern. Don't do anything dumb," she said, passing a significant look in Yates' direction. "Understood?"

"Understood," Karigan replied glumly. Yates smiled and nodded.

"Thanks, you two. You're really saving me a headache," said Mapstone, though she knew that likely she'd simply passed her headache along to Karigan. "Party starts in half an hour. Have fun." She turned to leave, but paused. "Is Osric alright?"

"Oh," said Yates, with a grimace. "He got hit in the mouth during practice today and shattered a tooth. Didn't want to go to the infirmary and wouldn't let Ben go in to pull the bits of tooth out until he'd had a couple goes with the whiskey. The pieces were sort of embedded."

"_Whiskey?_" asked Mapstone. "A bit of thornapple and mawseed would have taken care of all that, without the side effects."

"That's what Ben said," said Karigan, "but that stuff is in the infirmary and I think Osric is afraid of that one nurse, Eugertha."

"Ah. I suppose I can't blame him. She is a bit intimidating…" Mapstone waved her hand in dismissal and had taken three steps away when another thought occurred to her, and she sighed to herself.

"Say, one more thing, you two," she called, and the riders turned back around. "I must be really tired to have forgotten about this part… The Rhovans have brought an illusionist with them to entertain." The implications of this were rather obvious to the riders: To the Rhovans, the ability to wield magic was not as approved of as the ability to do remarkable things with mundane objects and actions. "I know you know this but be especially careful not to let anything slip about Rider magic. I've a feeling they wouldn't take very well to that information."

The riders nodded and Mapstone dismissed them again. As mischievous, stubborn, or blithe as any one of her riders could be, she knew that when it came down to protecting what was important, they did not slip up. There was not a doubt in her mind that Karigan (though she seemed to attract trouble) and Yates (irrepressible though he was) would do fine tonight. Mapstone wasn't going to entertain another thought about anything related to Rhovanny, politics, or parties until the morning bell tolled.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to **Aereal **for some characterization and technical pointers!


	2. Chapter 2

**2: Karigan**

_This is appalling, _thought Karigan, staring around at the nobles. She and Yates had put on their formal rider garb and made their way up to the dance hall on time for the event to start, and now they stood backed against a table that was loaded with what looked like tarts full of lard impurities but smelled more like little chum buckets. The kitchens must be catering to the unique gastronomic preferences of the Rhovan palettes.

The appalling part was not the food, however. It was the anticipated aristocratic presence of hoisted Sacoridian and Rhovan pinkies and a certain thickness in the perfumed air, which was making Yates look a bit ill. He was going to be too polite to ask what the smell was but Karigan recognized it.

"That smell is ambergris," said Karigan, leaning in towards Yates' ear. "One of the most expensive scents ever discovered. It's derived from the stomach stones of the boxhead whale and made into perfume."

Yates paled a bit.

"You know," he said, "I can handle the smell coming from those fish … things… and I can handle the smell of whale juice but I don't think I handle both at the same time. Let's move."

Karigan gratefully followed Yates as he wove through a clump of well-clad nobles towards an empty bunch of chairs. Etiquette demanded that they stand about looking ready to chat but they'd been standing about in such a way for twenty minutes so far and Karigan was happy to be sitting. She wondered how long they'd have to be here. So far nobody had approached them with questions or comments about the Green Riders and she was having a hard time believing that any one of these people cared a speck about the king's messengers.

The illusionist that Mapstone had mentioned did a brief stint involving smoke and hats and pulling large objects from unlikely locations. Karigan feigned interest but could not find it in herself to be genuinely entertained. She knew that illusionists went through great pains to create such seemingly magical effects - even Yates applauded at the end of the performance – but the tricks and slight-of-hand did not impress her. She'd seen Tegan do better.

After the performance, she watched the congregation with mild interest. King Zachary, she'd been pleased to note, had not made a presence at the party; neither had Lady Estora. _Good._ She was not in the mood to deal with her feelings towards the king. For now she'd burned herself out fretting about that ordeal the previous week. Her autumn adventures in the Mirwell province and in the tombs had done little to distract her from said feelings, when all was said and done, and she'd about had it with the whole situation. She had been tempted to take up a few drinks with Osric earlier in the evening just to ensure that thoughts of King Zachary stayed at bay, at least for one night.

Though the king was not around, Sacoridia was still thoroughly represented here tonight. Many nobles from Sacor City had shown up, as well as several visiting nobles from other provinces. _Any excuse to dress up and strut about like peacocks,_ thought Karigan.

"Tegan would have died here," muttered Yates under his breath, and Karigan nodded. They both smiled pleasantly at a passing posse of flouncing ladies. The ladies paid them no heed. "I'm going to get drinks," Yates declared. "What'll it be, Sir Karigan? Mead? Switchel? Fish sauce? I think I saw a bowl of fish sauce up there." Karigan snorted and pushed him away towards the drinks. They both knew that it would be improper for them, lowly messengers, to serve themselves anything but water. Fancier drinks would have to be offered to them for it to be deemed 'proper'.

Karigan watched Yates weave through the crowd over to the water pitchers and swallowed a laugh as an old noble with a particularly protrusive gut took a wrong step and almost knocked Yates into another server bearing a platter of delicacies. Yates skipped aside and avoided any incidence and, to her surprise, the big aristocrat laughed and then actually apologized loudly. The man had obviously had a few to drink but he looked friendly. Yates smiled and said something to the man and Karigan groaned. Thus occupied, Yates wouldn't be returning with water any time soon. Karigan wasn't particularly thirsty, but she knew by now that a sure-fire way to feel more like she fit in in a party situation was to be holding a drink of some sort. She rose from her chair and took a step towards the water pitcher.

"A woman in uniform," said a voice that hovered behind her chair. Surprised, she turned around and came face-to-face with an unfamiliar man, and the sight of him was so unexpected that words failed her for a moment. "Green, I see… You must be one of the king's messengers," the man said. He spoke down to her; not figuratively, but quite literally. She looked up to meet his stare. She wasn't sure if he were slanting his eyebrows down his nose like that on purpose or if that's just how his face was.

"Y-Yes," she said finally, finding her voice. "_Hrm. _Excuse me, yes. Karigan G'ladheon, Green Rider, at your service."

"G'ladheon, you say?" breathed the man, and he went on a bit about his familiarity with the clan and his high regard of Stevic's work, which was just about all any aristocrat ever had to say to Karigan when she talked with them. As this man spoke, her mind glazed over and she observed him as he stood. He could not have been younger than forty, though he was built well, if rather like an upsidown pyramid. His shoulders were probably twice as broad as hers. His voice was quiet, and though she had already heard from two dozen people how fine her father's choice in silken wraps was, when this man said it she felt as if she were being told some arcane secret.

Karigan realized the man had paused in his soliloquy, and she felt part of her stomach drop out from under itself. Was she supposed to say something now?

"Dear me," said the man, "how rude I have been. I haven't introduced myself, and to such a stunning young woman. Marcell Carding, personal assistant to His Lord High Treasurer of Rhovanny Aeble Beuford, at your service." He took Karigan's hand and raised it to his lips. Karigan did not feel honored by the kiss and did not like to think why Carding felt the need to give what he certainly perceived as an honor, but she shook the feeling off and smiled.

"I have heard," said Carding, taking a seat next to her, "a little about the king's messengers here in Sacoridia." Politeness demanded that Karigan sat back down to chat with Carding. She did so, and nodded, wondering where in the world Carding was about to take the conversation. _So this is the man who wanted to talk to us_, she thought.

"Do tell?" asked Karigan, genuinely interested. Carding's eyes narrowed a bit and he hunched forward, as if to tell another secret.

"Rumors about uncanny abilities," he said, which was so abrupt that Karigan had to consciously reign in her eyebrows.

"Uncanny abilities?" she asked. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Did you watch the performance earlier? The illusionist?"

"Yes, I thought him quite good."

"Good, yes, but not the real deal, if you know what I mean." Karigan did know what he meant. Captain Mapstone's voice rang in her head._ Let nothing slip about Rider magic._ "Tell me, Rider G'ladheon, is it true? Are the king's messengers endowed with certain… abilities?"

Karigan mustered a bemused smile.

"My Lord Carding," she said, "surely, if any of those under the king's service were to wield magic for the benefit of the realm, it would follow that the recipients of these abilities would first be those who could benefit most from it."

"Such as?"

"Such as," said Karigan, making things up now to avoid that vein of thought and to hopefully confuse the man, "oh, the guards, perhaps, or the cavalry." Carding's eyes glinted at her words.

"Hmm," he mused. "I could have sworn I had heard of such abilities within the ranks of Green Riders and none others." Karigan bit back her question of who Carding had been talking to. The fact that riders used magic was supposed to be a well-kept secret. "How many years have you been in the service of the king, Karigan?"

"Oh, maybe three," she said breezily, though inwardly she rankled at having been called by her first name by this man.

"What a coincidence," Carding said quietly, and cocked his head to the side. Briefly he reminded her of a turkey vulture. "I believe it was about three years ago that an especially interesting story came to be, involving a Green Rider arriving in the court in a most unlikely manner. Does that sound familiar?" Karigan, thinking quickly, forced a jovial smile.

"Oh ho, you mean when Duncan brought that swarm of angry bees before the king? Yes, that was unlikely, though I'd hesitate to call it – "

"No," interrupted Carding, and Karigan detected a hint of irritableness behind his tight little smile. He was not simply making casual conversation anymore. "I'm talking about the rider that moved with the wind, bypassing the guards and pages alike. Surely you must have heard this story?"

_You have no idea,_ thought Karigan, and suddenly couldn't wait to get back to Mapstone about this whole ordeal.

"My apologies, my Lord Carding, I've heard no such story," she said, attempting to look very sorry indeed that she couldn't help him. He opened his mouth for a response.

Sudden music cut off his next words, and they both swiveled in their seats to watch the musicians. Amongst them she saw a fiddler, a lute player, and several percussive instruments. The music was lively and dynamic, not at all what Karigan would have expected to hear at an aristocrat party. She was glad of the auditory distraction – perhaps Carding would be put off from trying to speak with her.

To her horror, he turned and smiled a thin, vulture smile.

"Care to dance?" he asked. Karigan's heart went cold at the thought of dancing about with this hulking man and his disturbing questions. She smiled and pretended not to have heard.

"_What_?" she asked, putting her hand to her ear. Of course it was pointless to pretend not to have heard; he'd just repeat himself louder and she'd be forced to –

"Dance with me!" someone shouted happily, but it wasn't Carding this time. Carding, taken aback, looked up at the newcomer. Yates had finally arrived with two flutes of ice water, one full for her and his already half-empty, but he'd scarcely plunked them on the table before he'd grabbed hold of Karigan's hands and swept her helplessly off her feet. Yates apparently knew the steps to this dance, and in a heartbeat had whirled them both away from the crouching Carding and halfway across the dance floor.

It took Karigan's mind several seconds to catch up with her body, whereupon she adjusted her hand on Yates' shoulder and tried not to trip on her own feet.

"You just saved my skin," she whispered hastily.

"I know," replied Yates, and Karigan could see that his cheery demeanor only partially concealed his concern. "I saw him ask you to dance. You looked like you'd swallowed a frog."

"Felt like it too," said Karigan. Yates' eyes traveled over her shoulder to the side of the room they'd just vacated.

"He's watching you," Yates said quietly, valiantly trying to keep his smile from faltering.

"Oh great," said Karigan, likewise doing her best to look care-free. No doubt the two of them stood out like a sore thumb, two uniformed Green Riders dancing amongst the lords and ladies. She wanted to tell Yates what Carding had been asking her, as she could see the question on his face, but if Carding was watching, surely he'd guess what they were talking about. She stumbled and Yates counterweighted, pulling her back to balance. "Alright, you'd better tell me how to do this dance before I kill us both."

"Psht," said Yates. "I don't really know this one, I'm just doing what Garth taught us last week, but faster. You remember the one he brought back from Wayman province?" It was difficult to hear what Yates was saying, what with the music and the movement and so many other things to pay attention to, like not bumping into anybody else. She did remember, though, and once the familiar pattern was in her head, she was able to keep up with Yates. The movement became more natural and, despite the shadow cast by Carding, who still sat dourly over where she'd left him, she couldn't help but let out a real smile.

Her attention thus partially freed from concentrating on not looking like a fool, she noticed that the other party attendees were having difficulties mastering the steps – they were not used to such lively music, though, to their credit, they were gamely trying to keep up, and several of them were even clapping and smiling as they watched Yates and Karigan.

When the song ended, the aristocrats let out a collective _whew_ and started to flock to the drinks table. However, Karigan's light spirit sunk immediately. The excuse of the dance was past. Where was Carding? She furtively looked around. Carding was not in sight, and she allowed a small sigh of relief. Perhaps he'd given up. She nudged Yates and headed towards one of the servant entrances. They could talk in relative security there; the nobles didn't seem to want to loiter near the doors where the servants passed through.

"That was Marcell Carding," she said to Yates, keeping her face neutral, as if she were discussing the weather. "Personal assistant to the Lord High Treasurer Aeble Beuford." She lowered her voice. "Asked me if Riders had 'uncanny abilities'."

Yates' eyes widened.

"Where'd he hear that from?"

"Don't know but he's very curious. I don't trust him. I'm sure he's the one who requested we be present at this party. I don't think we ought to stay very long. Gods, he's so direct. I don't think he'll take no for an answer. Don't look so shifty, Yates, people will get suspicious."

Yates let his eyebrows rise back up into a normal position. They both tried to look nonchalant, but this is a difficult, if not impossible, endeavor to strive for when one is at a party and one does not have a drink to hold.

"So… Do we leave?" asked Yates.

"I don't know," said Karigan helplessly. "Let's go get our water."

Yates nodded and they headed back into the throng, watching right and left for Marcell Carding. They reached their drinks without incident, and Karigan felt slightly better with a flute of water in her hand. She took a sip – the dance had made her thirsty but this dratted aristocratic water was so cold that it was difficult to drink.

"Who was it you bumped into, when you went to get water?" she asked Yates.

"Believe it or not, that was the Lord High Treasurer himself."

"No!"

"Yes, he's quite a jolly old fellow, though I have to say, he seems a bit drafty in the head, if you know what I mean."

"Mapstone would stab you right now for saying that out loud."

"You're right, she would," Yates said, glancing around as if Mapstone may be hiding in the shadows. "You know, Lord Beuford didn't seem at all interested in knowing more about the Green Riders. He didn't even ask me who I was, he just went on about how much he liked those fish things over on the table."

"Pardon me," said yet another new voice, and Yates and Karigan turned to face the man. "If I am not mistaken, you are the king's messengers, are you not?"

It wasn't Carding, and this fact alone made Karigan sigh in relief. This man was no taller than Yates and no broader of shoulder, and his eyes seemed mirthful.

"At your service," she said with a slight bow, and Yates followed suit. "Riders G'ladheon and Cardell."

"Oh my!" burbled the man happily. "Green Riders! What an honor! I am Itzak Crawfordson, assistant to Master Selby the Illusionist – please just call me Itzak." Itzak spoke so quickly that Karigan had to pause to process his words before replying.

"Ah, yes. We very much enjoyed your show earlier this evening," she smiled.

"Yes, good fun, good fun... The art of illusion is a formidable one to get a hold of, and I am honored to be working with Master Selby, but you know," he said, and leaned forward as if to tell a secret. Karigan was getting rather sick of people leaning forward as if to tell a secret. "My true passion lies not in the trickery and deceit of illusions, but in horses!"

"_Really_?" asked Karigan, genuinely surprised.

"Yes indeed! I have a stable and five of my own horses and I lament that my showman travels keeps me away from them, but one must earn a living as one must…"

Yates nodded sympathetically.

"Oh, do forgive my forthrightness," blurted Itzak, "but I simply _cannot_ help it, I must ask you – " Karigan tensed, expecting another question about rider magic, "would it be possible for me to… To meet the famous Green Rider horses?"

"Um," said Yates, taken aback. Karigan tried to form words.

"It's simply that I've heard so very much about them," said Itzak, almost apologetically, "their intelligence and wits and all, I find it so intriguing. It's not often one finds themselves in the vicinity of such an honorable beast, I had hoped to be able to while the opportunity was there…"

"I'd be _very _happy to show you the stables," said Karigan, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Yates shoot her an ill-disguised look of horror. To her it was the perfect opportunity. She was pleasing one of the Rhovan members of the company, which is what Mapstone had ordered them to do. Itzak seemed as out of place at the party as she felt, and it would be a relief to get out of this stuffy atmosphere… and away from any more encounters with Carding, wherever he'd gone.

"Oh thank you!" said Itzak around a wide smile. Karigan smiled in return and turned to lead Itzak away. Really she wanted to skip away but she reigned in her excitement. She threw a look over her shoulder and caught Yates' eye.

"I'll be back," she called. He gave a limp wave as he watched them leave. She felt a bit bad for leaving him alone at the party, but then again, it _was _Yates. He'd find another dance partner.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Do Sacoridians and Rhovans know what tango is? Probably not. Do I care? Heavens no! :D **

* * *

**3: Yates**

_That's not very fair,_ thought Yates, watching Karigan escape the party with Itzak in tow. She'd been the one to bring Yates to the party so she wouldn't be alone, and now here she was leaving _him_ alone?

He made his way back to his chair, and sighed. He didn't blame her. Though he hadn't really met Carding, he could imagine how uncomfortable Karigan had been with that situation. It was probably better that Karigan was away. Now all Yates had to do was avoid Carding and his questions, and the night will have been a success. So far they'd made a good name for the riders with Itzak and Lord Beuford. He stared into his water flute and dourly wondered who else he'd have the pleasure of sucking up to before the night was done. The musicians had started up another song, this one considerably slower than the last, and the nobles looked far more comfortable with the pace.

A heavy musk seemed to suddenly cocoon itself around his head. _Ambergris_, Karigan had called it. That whale perfume. Someone had taken a seat next to him and the scent was rolling over him in waves alongside the croon of the music.

"How is it," said the newcomer, "that a Sacoridian such as yourself knows a Rhovan dance better than any of the Rhovans present?" Yates laughed.

"My lady, when it comes to dancing, it is less important to know the correct steps as it is to proceed with the wrong ones with the utmost self-assurance."

"A fine illusion you created," she said, and smiled back. "I was familiar with the song but never have I heard it played at such a tempo."

"Our musicians do get exuberant at times. I'm impressed they have managed to restrain themselves enough to play such a slow piece as this."

"Trischt," the lady said abruptly, and held out her bejeweled hand with a coy smile. Yates wasn't sure he wanted to be the object of any coyness coming from a woman who looked to be at least half again his own age, but still he took her hand, careful not to touch her giant rings, and bowed slightly.

"Yates Cardell, at your service. Well met." He released Trischt's hand without a kiss. One never knew when such formalities would be perceived as imprudent, especially among travelers from so far away. Besides, Trischt had given him no indication as to her rank – indeed she hadn't even given him her full name. All he knew about her was that she was wealthy enough to be wearing ambergris. She could be a maid or a queen, for all he knew, though she carried herself rather like the latter. She was a powerful-looking woman with a straight back. Her black and crimson dress was not indecent but it was certainly not conservative, and her eyes seemed to pin him to his own chair. For all her severity, she had upon her a very undeniable attractiveness, and by her face she knew it all too well. Yates would not have hesitated to allow himself to become intrigued by her had they just met at the Cock and Hen down the Winding Way, but this was quite a different setting.

"You've not given me your status," said Trischt, "but I suppose your outfit rather gives it away."

"Forgive me, Lady Trischt. I am one of the king's messengers. Just making an appearance to make an appearance, I suppose. Captain's orders."

"Ah," said Trischt, looking quite disinterested, for which Yates was relieved. He didn't want to answer difficult questions about Green Riders. "You must have many interesting stories from your travels."

"Hah. I can tell you about every pothole and divot in the road from here to the ends of the country and I'm afraid that would be the apex of any excitement I have encountered." Of course this was a rather large lie, and he hoped she couldn't see it. "I can promise only a completely boring time if you were to allow me to speak any longer. Pray tell, Lady Trischt, what is your part in the Rhovan entourage?"

"Oh, I shouldn't like to blather on about that, Rider Cardell," she said, and glanced at her impeccable fingernails. "No doubt you've heard quite enough political talk from Lord Beuford already."

"I had the honor of meeting him earlier this evening. I daresay if every treasurer were such a delight, the world of trade would be a far sunnier place."

"Yes, isn't he a hoot," said Trischt, obviously uninterested in discussing the Lord High Treasurer. "Tell me, Rider, what did you think of Master Selby?"

"Couldn't take my eyes off him. What a show. I've never seen anything like it."

"Really?"

"Itzak, you know his assistant, was just telling us that the art of illusion is a difficult one to master, and I'd bet not many attempt to reach the level your Selby has reached. A rare pleasure to see."

"Indeed," said Trischt, and stared off to the opposite end of the room, a wistful expression settling upon her features. "Sometimes I wonder, though…" She turned to Yates and lowered her voice. "I know this topic is a bit… taboo, I suppose, so forgive me if I offend, but… how has this happened, that true magic is rebuked while this fake stuff, these illusions, are so applauded? Smells a bit hypocritical to me."

Yates tried to maintain his relaxed demeanor but felt his muscles go a bit tense.

"Interesting query, my lady," he responded neutrally, staring carefully into the throng of slow-dancing nobles. "I suppose the Master Illusionist himself would have some thoughtful comments about that subject. _Something_ drove him to his current high status."

"I've asked him such questions on a number of occasions… He has an entirely inappropriate amount of animosity towards all things magic, if you ask me. He wants to prove that magic isn't necessary at all, that all things are possible within the genius of the mind of man."

"Huh," said Yates, who could think of nothing more intelligent to say because he was busy worrying about Karigan. His friend was in the presence of Itzak, and who knew where Itzak's allegiances lay? _Surely I'm being paranoid, _Yates told himself.

"Yes, and for that matter… Are you quite well?" asked Trischt.

"Pardon?"

"I said are you well? You look stricken. Was it something I said?"

"What? No! No, of course not, no. My sincere apologies, Lady Trischt, I was just considering your words."

"I did not mean to so upset you, Rider Cardell." Yates opened his mouth to say that she hadn't upset him, but she stuck her hand in the air and gestured to someone out on the fringes of the crowds. A servant started towards them, bearing a tray. The slower song the musicians had been playing finally came to an end and the crowd became more fluid. "I like a man with an open mind," she continued. "Too many of these nobles are closed off to anything they can't wrap their control over." The servant had reached them, and she stopped to take the two vessels on the tray. She handed one to Yates, who took it reluctantly.

"I am told this is mead made from the royal apiaries and aged to perfection," she said. "Have you tried it?"

"Not today, Lady Trischt," he said, leaving out the fact that he'd befriended the apiary's beekeeper and had had several opportunities in the past to sample this same drought. "My thanks," he said, raising his glass in the air between them. She clinked her glass against his.

"To Aeryc," she said, "destroyer of shadows and deception."

"To Aeryc," Yates repeated, who thought Trischt's toast had come rather out of the blue, and who wasn't really in the mood to be drinking mead with her in the first place, as he had no desire to be losing his head at the moment and he knew how potent the royal mead could be, especially as he hadn't eaten anything in the past handful of hours, but Trischt took a swig and politeness demanded that he followed suit.

The smell of the mead hit him in the face before any reached his mouth, and he realized this wasn't simply mead, this was the apiary's special double-distilled honey jack. He committed himself to extra caution and took a small sip. Trischt had taken a rather large sip and he wondered how the night was about to progress.

"Can't hold a drink?" she said, and he looked at her in surprise. She winked at him.

"Lady Trischt, this is… " he began, but faltered. What was he supposed to say? _This is a glass of hangover, no thank you? I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to be getting tipsy amongst the Rhovans? Thanks for conjuring up two vessels of the most expensive spirit to come out of Sacor City but I think I'll pass? _

"I'd much rather enjoy such a luxury with one who can appreciate a bit of fun," she murmured, and took another sip.

_This is probably my cue to take evasive action,_ Yates thought to himself, but could think up no graceful way to extract himself from the situation. He still didn't know who this woman was. What if she were the daughter of Lord Beuford himself? What if she was a High Noble? _ Cater to their whims_, Mapstone had said. She'd also told Yates not to anything dumb, and in this case there was a bit of a conflict.

"What are you afraid of?" teased Trischt. "Don't tell me you've never had a stiff drink before."

At this, Yates couldn't help but laugh.

"You won't be hearing such a confession from me, Lady Trischt."

"Relax, then, rider. It's not every night you get to taste something so fine."

"You're right about that," muttered Yates, and gave up a bit. Surely a few sips wouldn't hurt. He knew his own limits. Trischt smiled and seemed to relax a bit herself. Perhaps all she really wanted was someone to have a bit of casual party fun with. A break from her other acquaintances. Probably.

_I wish Mapstone were here,_ Yates thought.

"So. Tell me, Cardell, what do you think of the king? I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of speaking with him." Yet another forthright question. The Rhovans were nothing if not forward, as Karigan had said.

"King Zachary is a good man," Yates said automatically, over his vessel of honey jack, "and I am honored every day to serve him and his kingdom. Lady Estora will no doubt augment an already blessed reign… Indeed she already has." Such political statements would normally bore him, but at the moment he was relieved to be talking about such topics rather than magic and illusion.

"We have heard about the recent fiasco with Lady Estora's kidnapping," Trischt said. "How lucky that she was returned safely. Thanks to… some of the king's own messengers, I hear? Is that right?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"A joint effort, really. Green Riders, the king's Weapons, and an odd assortment of individuals."

"I heard the Green Riders played a rather major role. Do tell, Cardell. You may brag about your peers, I don't mind. I'm in the mood for a good story." So far this was proving to be one of the more frustrating conversations he'd had with a woman, and there was no end in sight. Thankfully, before he could come up with a clever answer, the same servant who had brought their drinks slipped in behind Trischt's chair.

"My lady Trischt," he said, "Lord Carding would have a word with you when – "

"Oh goodness, tell Lord Carding he can wait. I'm trying to enjoy myself here," interrupted Trischt, and waved the servant away. Yates wondered how well Trischt and Lord Carding knew each other. She turned back to Yates. "You were saying?"

"I, um… Yes. The associated Riders played a key role, but they were in the right place at the right time, so it's only to be expected that they would have helped."

"You riders must be the modest sort," Trischt said over the edge of her vessel. Yates buried his response in another deceptively tiny sip of the honey jack.

Music sprung once again from the corner with the gathered musicians. This time there were some larger stringed instruments, the likes of which Yates had seen only on occasion. The tune was of a medium tempo and sounded as if it had come from the arid lands southwest of the Wanda Plains. Yates had been in the area once, with his father on a cartography mission a few years ago.

"Dance?" Trischt said. She rose and held out her hands, waiting. She'd already downed a good amount of the honey jack and he was amazed she wasn't swaying on her feet. He could hardly make a fool of her. He smiled and led her to the dance floor, put one hand on the small of her back and took her other hand in his.

Yates had been blessed with what his family called 'foot memory', which is to say he tended to remember every dance he ever put fourth an effort to learn. Right now it was helping that the lady Trischt seemed to know the steps perfectly and with an additional flair, so all he had to do was match her movements for a moment before the steps became automatic.

"You know this one?" she asked, and did something fancy that involved her leg around his.

"Learned it a few years ago," he said, trying to ignore how close she suddenly was. In an instant she pulled away, as the dance dictated. If all she wanted to do was dance, Yates supposed he could convince himself to just have a good time. He hadn't had enough to drink to encourage any stupid decision-making on his part, thankfully.

"You lead well. Such skill," she purred, before he spun her around gently. She landed against his chest, and in the pause between measures, she added, "What else can you do?"

Gratefully, the dance steps once again put an arms length between the dance partners. They whirled past a candelabra lit up with a dozen tiny fires, and it seemed to Yates that the flames all at once became quite a bit brighter.

"You name it, I can probably dance it," he replied, trying to switch the conversation's direction. Spots from the candelabra's light flickered in front of his eyes for a moment and he found he couldn't see the lady's face clearly but suddenly her grip on his shoulder and on his hand tightened.

"I am most intrigued," she whispered, "by some rumors I've been hearing."

"Rumors?"

"That Green Riders possess the ability to wield magic," she said plainly.

Yates released a chuckle, but really he wanted to pull away and hide somewhere dark. Trischt had to be with Carding. The lights in this room were definitely getting brighter, and it was disorienting.

"Rumors are rumors, my lady," he tried. "I'm sorry to thwart your curiosity but I'm afraid I have no stories for you."

"Is that so?" she asked, and he detected a threatening undertone, though he may have simply been projecting his own feelings. He was indeed feeling threatened – not only was the light continuing to assault his eyes, but he was beginning to feel a bit dizzy. _I didn't drink _that _much, did I?_ he thought. No, he hadn't. He wanted to disengage from the dance and at least sit down but doing so would have been the height of improper behavior. More than that he wanted to run away and find Karigan – this whole situation seemed to be getting fishier by the second, and though Itzak had seemed nice, Yates' trust was rapidly falling away.

Once again, he twirled her up into his chest and they paused there for a breath.

"There's no need to hold back, Cardell," she said in his ear, and reached her hand up to his face. He admired himself for not flinching away. "I just want some stories…" she whispered, her voice so quiet that it barely ghosted along the edge of audibility. "I can show you a good time tonight… Isn't that what we both want?"

This time Yates couldn't control his desire to push away from her, but thankfully it matched the dance step. He blinked hard. Perhaps this was a dream? Bright spots scuttled across his vision and he stepped more carefully.

"You flatter me, Lady Trischt, but please understand my situation." Perhaps truth was the way to go. "I can no more pursue such activities with those of noble blood as I can answer particular questions pertaining to those in the service of King Zachary. It would not be honorable, and I do not wish to dishonor my king, or a noble lady such as yourself." _I will be gagging on those words later,_ he thought.

The music ended with a flourish, and was met with much clapping and shouts for more. Yates contained a sigh of relief and started to puzzle together a clever escape plan, but Trischt had not loosened her grip on his shoulder and hand. He fidgeted. Someone called loudly for another song, a faster song.

"If I may," he said quickly, "where did you learn to dance so well?" The musicians counted out another tune of similar melody, but a few steps faster. Trischt tightened her grip further and dragged him into the opening set. Yates lurched once, off-balance, before catching himself. Had to be careful.

They went through a few measures of music and dance without speaking, and Yates wondered if she'd heard him. When she met his eyes again, they were full of something – perhaps mischief.

"I learn from the best," she replied, finally.

"Who might that be?"

"That would be my husband," she said, and suddenly she had removed herself from the dance, to be replaced by someone a full head taller, several times broader, and whose hands positively dwarfed Yates' own. Once again Yates' mind, which seemed to be flagging, struggled to catch up with his body. His legs weren't working and he kept running into this other person and it took him several seconds to realize that he was having difficulty because the person across from him had taken the lead, and Yates was none too familiar with the opposite role. He tried to disengage but there was a solid hand on his back pulling him in, and his partner's other hand had trapped his own.

"I don't believe we've met," rumbled his new dance partner. "My name is Marcell Carding."

"I know," Yates said. He wanted to disappear.


	4. Chapter 4

**4: Yates**

"You know me but I don't know you?" queried Carding. "Curious."

Yates didn't respond. He was too busy trying to decide what to do. He weighed his options and didn't like the looks of any of them. He could raise a fuss about being manhandled, but no doubt Carding would be furious, which means Mapstone and Zachary would be furious. He could request that they sit down and speak to each other like civilized men instead of Carding leading Yates about the room as if he were blind and had two left feet, but Yates suspected that Carding rather preferred having an excuse to force Yates to listen to him. _Crafty_. The only other option was to play Carding's game, which seemed an abominable option, but then again, so were the results of the other two.

_Fine_, thought Yates. _I'll play your game. _

"You know Karigan talked to me," he muttered, and started committing the submissive steps of the dance to memory. He'd watched Trischt closely during the previous song and he thought he could garner some sort of handle on it.

"Oh, yes! Yes, that was you, wasn't it?" Carding chortled in feigned surprise, and swung Yates around. Yates managed to keep control of his feet. "Not much for idle chat, I see," Carding continued, after a short silence.

"I love a good back-and-forth," Yates managed, "but I'm sure I'll bring us both down if I don't get these steps right. I'm not used to this side of the dance," he added sourly.

"Oh, not to worry. I shall catch you if you fall."

_That's what I'm worried about,_ Yates thought. He'd rather land on his face than be caught by Carding, but more than that he'd rather not fall at all.

"A quick learner," Carding observed. Yates finally raised his eyes off the floor to meet Carding's. He had his feet back, though the dizzy feeling he'd noticed during his dance with Trischt had not left him. If anything, it was getting worse. The brightness of the surrounding lights was almost obscene at this point and Yates worried that it wasn't the room but his own mind that was the problem.

"Yates Cardell," Yates said finally, as a belated introduction. Carding nodded and smiled. Yates did not continue. He would let Carding make the next move. For the moment Carding seemed satisfied to simply keep up with the quick tempo. Yates obliged him, though every step they took together made Yates wish fervently that he had Karigan's ability of fading away. Yates could only imagine what the other nobles were thinking and saying to each other, watching the lord and the rider together, but he couldn't see much past Carding's bulk.

"I do love a good dance," Carding said, and Yates realized too late that it was time for one of those spinny maneuvers. Carding flung his arm above Yates' head and the room was a blur in front of his eyes. His muscles forgot what they were doing and he would have fallen but, true to his word, Carding propped him up. Yates hastily found his footing again. His body had stopped spinning and his mind had caught up with his body, but now his insides seemed to have kept twisting around. Carding tried to pull him back into the dance but the piercing light and his twisting guts and the fact that the floor kept tilting halted Yates in his tracks.

"My my, are you quite alright, Rider?" asked Carding, a bit loudly, or perhaps Yates' hearing was going funny now too.

"I need to sit," Yates said. His own voice echoed in his head.

"Right," Carding said, sounding every bit the worried friend. Yates allowed himself to be led over to where he and Trischt had been chatting, and was none too surprised to see Trischt back in her chair, looking pleased.

"Goodness, is he alright?" boomed a voice over Yates' shoulder. Yates turned and sat down heavily next to Trischt, and found himself facing Aeble Beuford's knees.

"Yes, yes, my lord," said Carding. "A bit much to drink, I expect."

"Ah, ha ha, I like a good party spirit!" Beuford clapped Yates on the shoulder heartily before heading back out into the crowd. Yates narrowed his eyes and turned to gaze at Trischt's drinking vessel. The contents were a markedly different hue than whatever was in Yates' vessel. _Stupid._ She hadn't been drinking honey jack at all. But that still didn't explain why he'd had such a strong reaction, he'd hardly made a dent in the stuff.

_Damnation_. Poison or drugs. They'd had this planned out. Carding's dance with him had pressured his heart into spreading whatever it was around Yates' veins and now it was taking him down.

Carding sat down heavily on Yates' other side and sighed.

"Good party," he said, and looked over Yates' head at Trischt. She laughed. Yates wasn't far enough gone to miss the tension present in the air. They were watching him now to see what would happen.

"Honey, are you sure he's alright?" Trischt asked, her voice coming into Yates' head from down a long tunnel. Her tone was mocking. "Look how pale he's gone."

"Maybe he'd better drink something. Here, friend, drink up. You need liquid."

Carding handed the vessel of honey jack to Yates. Yates took the vessel and promptly let it fall to shatter upon the floor. Carding let out a quiet curse. Faces turned. Someone exclaimed to see a Green Rider looking so off. Carding stood hastily and pulled Yates to his feet.

"We'd better step outside," he said, winking to several of the onlookers. "I think this one needs some fresh air." The onlookers laughed. Carding and Trischt led Yates over to the heavy doors, where the guards, with nary a suspicious glance, let them through. The three of them stepped out onto the balcony and Yates heard the snow crunching beneath their feet, but at that point he could no longer feel anything below his knees. He badly wished to pull away from them and push back through the doors, back where there were people and witnesses, but their grips may as well have been iron shackles. His strength bled away and his limbs became weak with tremors.

Trischt and Carding deposited him upon the cold stone bench against the castle wall, which was curiously devoid of snow, and he slumped onto his side, unable to hold himself up. He wanted to shout out into the night air for Karigan – the stable wasn't _that _far away – but he no longer had a voice. He closed his eyes and wondered if he was dying. The doors opened beyond his head and another pair of footsteps crunched out to stand with Trischt and Carding. What now? Who else was in on this?

"Rider Cardell?" said a familiar voice, a voice which Yates associated with granite, for some reason. It took him a moment to remember why – Karigan's nickname for one of the Weapons. Granite-face.

_Fastion?_

Yates forced his eyes open.

"What happened?" the Weapon asked, reaching out for the ensconced wall torch and kneeling down to peer at Yates. The light from the flames seemed beyond white, and Yates forced his eyes to remain open.

"I am being assaulted by these two nincompoop nobles and I would like you to rescue me," Yates tried to say, but his vocal chords wouldn't even function properly. He managed a low moan instead. Fastion frowned, looking genuinely concerned, and Yates would have been charmed to have caused the Weapon to show such emotion (slight as it was) but this matter was eclipsed by the matter of his inability to say anything.

"Food poisoning, we think," said Carding, appearing next to Fastion and staring down at Yates with exaggerated concern. "One of those fish tarts. They did look a bit iffy."

"I have not the time to spend to help Rider Cardell," Fastion said to Carding, "but I will have a mender come fetch him." Fastion stood and put the torch back into its wall sconce. The lack of light was a mercy but the impending lack of Fastion made Yates want to bang his hands on the stone bench. _Stay!_ He wanted to yell.

"Oh goodness, I'm sure that's not necessary," said Trischt. "Just an upset stomach. Better to be out on the balcony for that sort of thing, if you know what I mean."

"No doubt you're right, my lady," said Fastion, shooting one more glance down in Yates' direction, "but one should not take risks. Watch him until a mender arrives, if you would."

Fastion left.

Yates wished it were simply a case of an upset stomach but by this time he couldn't feel his stomach anymore, which was somewhat of a mercy. His legs may as well have been amputated. He could do nothing with his arms save send them twitching and trembling several inches at a time. His eyes were even tracking slowly. _Paralysis_, he thought, and groaned to himself. What next? Would his heart stop beating?

"Gods, Trischt, have you killed him?" asked Carding, and Yates saw the man crouch down in front of his face before Yates' own eyes finally refused to stay open. The man's fingers pressed against his neck. "His heart is doing a quickstep. How much did you put in that drink?"

"What the apothecary told me to," sniffed Trischt, defensively. "Six drops per fourth cup of emulsion to incapacitate. I doubled it because the vessel was more than half cup capacity. I wasn't going to let him drink the whole thing. He hardly touched it."

"_Emulsion?_" Carding hissed. "Per _emulsion_? What are you, _daft_? Egg is an emulsion! Milk is an emulsion! Alcohol isn't!"

"So?"

"So that was _oil_ of yew, the oil would have floated at the top in a non-emulsion… He could have consumed all twelve drops! You should have used _three!_"

Trischt didn't respond, and Yates figured she was now fretting about what she'd done. Yates was fretting as well. His brain was quite foggy but he got the impression that he was not in a good predicament. Carding's fingers went to Yates' neck again and stayed there for a moment.

"His heart's not faltering," Carding reported quietly, "but he's definitely unconscious."_ What_? They didn't know he could hear them. That would have been a strategic realization were it not for the very real possibility that Yates was about to die anyways, and with him would go any information he happened to glean. "Well, we've got to get him out of here either way. If the mender gets a hold of him they'll know what happened. Looks like Selby's prepared for us. Go tell him to get ready, and then send Beuford and Macklin out here."

Yates was beyond trying to figure out what was going on. He heard Trischt's footsteps go back into the ballroom, and then Carding was muttering to himself. Yates couldn't make it out – the ill-defined noises echoed about inside his head. _Karigan_, he thought, _now would be an ideal time to come save me._ What he wouldn't give right now to have Karigan's ability. Or Mara's. Maybe he'd be able to fling little fireballs from his fingertips. Osric's would be nice, too. He could just sink down into the bench and through the ceiling below. It would take Carding a while to find him, and perhaps by then someone else would have found him and helped him. If he'd had Connly's ability he could easily have called out to Trace for help and explained everything before Carding and Trischt had the chance to make any moves. Of course if he'd had Mapstone's ability, he could have avoided this whole predicament altogether.

_My ability must be the most worthless ability to have in this situation, _he thought. _I can't even open my eyes._

Time passed, though the only way Yates had to sense this was Carding's pacing footsteps and his periodic check of Yates' pulse. Idly Yates wondered where the mender was that Fastion had sent for. Perhaps Trischt had swept the mender up into another dance of deceit.

A bang by his head jangled Yates' remaining nerves. Carding struck the bench beneath him again and called, "Selby, get ready!" Then Yates heard the sound of the balcony doors opening.

"Oh good," exclaimed Carding, "My Lord Beuford, so good of you to join us. We wanted to show you how bright the stars were. Nothing like the skies above Rhovanny."

"Would you look at that!" boomed Lord Beuford, who either didn't notice Yates or was also in on the plan.

"Lord Carding," said Trischt, "this is the mender who's come for the rider."

Yates felt a flood of relief. Was that it? Was that all they had planned? Hand him over to the mender and be done with it? Perhaps they were just confident that he was going to die. Perhaps the mender was not who they appeared to be. Perhaps –

"_ITZAK!_" Trischt shouted into the night. "What are you _doing?_" She sounded downright mortified and for a second Yates felt a pang of fear – wasn't Itzak supposed to be with Karigan? What had happened to his friend?

Then his body played a grand trick on him, for it felt as if the bench itself dropped out from beneath him and he was falling, falling away from the voices and Trischt's shouting and then he hit a silence and a hardness and his mind fled away.


	5. Chapter 5

**5: Mapstone**

_POUND POUND POUND._

"Captain Mapstone, it's Loyd," called a voice on the other side of her door. "Sorry to bother you at this hour but we have a situation."

Mapstone grumbled and kicked out of bed, grabbing an afghan to wrap around her shoulders. It was too cold to answer the door in naught but a nightgown, emergency or no. She knew it was an emergency because she knew no Weapon in their right mind would dare bother her at this hour with anything less, but the thought didn't improve her mood. Hadn't she just gotten to sleep? It wasn't fair.

"What is it?" she demanded, throwing open the door. The Weapon Loyd eyed the saber she had clasped in her hand. She hadn't even thought to grab it up; it had just happened.

"Captain, Rider Cardell's disappeared."

"…. What do you mean, disappeared?" she asked, wondering how this was an emergency.

"He took ill – apparently food poisoning – and lay down on one of those benches on a balcony of the ballroom – "

"Is he _insane?_ It's _cold _out here!"

" – Yes, I know. He was laying out there, and right in front of five people he just vanished."

"Vanished?"

"Yes," said the Weapon, patiently. "Vanished. So say five people. So I came to get you – "

"You did the right thing," Mapstone mumbled, plunging back into her room and finding her boots.

"I thought it might have something to do with the Riders'…"

"Yes, their abilities. It might," said Mapstone, nabbing her belt and saber sheath.

"So I came to you first," continued Loyd. "I was the guard at that balcony door, Captain, I saw two of the nobles lug Rider Cardell out there. I figured if anybody was going to ask any questions, it should be you."

"Damn straight it should be," Mapstone grumped, pulling on an overtunic as she led the way out the door. _Yates, if this is a prank, I'm going to tan your hide all the way to next year, _she fumed, but she knew him too well to suspect a prank. He'd known not to do anything funny tonight. "Loyd, do you know if Rider G'ladheon is up there?"

"She had been for a while, but she left with one of the Rhovans a while ago."

"Keep your eyes out. I need to talk to her."

"Yes Captain."

Mapstone was fairly certain she knew what had happened, or at least a basic premise – Yates had taken ill and had, for whatever reason, gone out to the balcony with the two nobles. Karigan had probably snuck out there using her fading ability, and faded Yates away as well. Who knew where they'd gone? And for what purpose? What had happened that had led Karigan to believe that she had to sneak around like that, especially after what Mapstone had said to them about putting on a good face for the Rhovans?

As she and Loyd came down the grand entry towards the ballroom, they passed a thin string of aristocrats heading in the other direction. It was late, and people were going off to bed. Every person she passed was smiling and chatting away with others in their group, apparently oblivious to the fact that someone had just disappeared. They were not, however, oblivious to the fact that Mapstone was in a nightgown, though some of the nobles looked a little too far gone to be seeing straight. So much for providing the Rhovans with a good impression of the Green Riders.

Mapstone was too appalled to care that she was in a nightgown. Someone had just gotten sick, gone outside into the frigid air, and disappeared. Of course they wouldn't be concerned about one of the king's messengers, and, she supposed, the Weapons were probably keeping the whole situation under wraps so as not to cause panic, but Mapstone got the impression that even had the news spread around, few of the nobles would have tried to help.

They rounded the corner and came into the main ballroom. Mapstone's gaze went immediately to the balcony doors, and she was somewhat mollified to see that there quite a few more than five people gathered round, besides the four Weapons. There were several pockets of people loitering over by the drinks table and giggling over tarts and biscuits but she ignored them and instead closed the gap between herself and the witnesses. She immediately recognized Lord Beuford, as well as one of his advisors, Macklin. The nurse Eugertha was also there, and Mapstone smiled sardonically. Perhaps Yates had been trying to escape the attentions of the imposing mender.

"How long ago did he disappear?" Mapstone muttered to Loyd, before they reached the group.

"Not more than ten minutes."

"Lord Beuford," Maptone said loudly, and gave a curt bow. The big man's eyes widened to be addressed by a woman in a nightgown, but then again, she was wearing boots, a tunic, and a saber, as well as her best businesslike scowl, and perhaps it was this latter thing that Beuford finally recognized.

"Captain Mapstone!" he said. "Of the Green Riders! Oh, you do have such timing, you would never believe it! One of your own riders just disappeared!" _True, _said her brooch, though Mapstone smelled mead on his breath. He truly believed he'd seen Yates disappear, but perhaps his mind and eyes had been playing tricks.

"That's what I've heard," she said, and turned to the rest of the group, who had all centered their focus upon her – were they looking for someone to figure out what had happened, or were they looking for a show? "Who else saw him disappear?" she asked.

Everyone started talking at once, but fortunately Mapstone was, by this time in her career, rather good at picking out the important bits in situations such as this. She heard someone claim that Yates had vanished into thin air. Someone else said that he hadn't been moving. It continued: He hadn't made a sound; No warning; Ever so strange; Just like magic; He _had _looked rather ill.

She held up her hands and a few people stopped talking. She noted the woman who had mentioned that it had seemed like magic, and she noted who had said he'd been ill. She cast a few questions to each of the people involved, carefully checking her brooch as each of them answered. It told her that everyone truly believed they'd seen Yates Cardell disappear into thin air, though Macklin was, like his lord, slightly inebriated. Eugertha and the Lady Trischt admitted that they had been a bit distracted at the time by some sort of commotion down in the courtyard. Mapstone's brooch seemed hesitant to give her the all clear on Trischt and Carding, but in the end it told her _true. _She wished one of the Weapons had been a witness.

Mapstone told the gathered nobles that they were welcome to leave, and she herself pushed out the balcony doors. Loyd followed. It appeared that Yates really had disappeared, and she wasn't sure if this were good news or bad news. She was still hopeful that Karigan had had something to do with it but Karigan had yet to show up.

"Tell me, Loyd," Mapstone said as she crouched in the snow in front of the stone bench. "Which ones of those nobles were the ones that brought Yates out here?"

"That would be Lady Trischt and Lord Carding, Captain." The Weapon crouched down next to Mapstone as she checked the stone bench for any evidence of tampering or trickery. Of course there was none. It was a stone bench.

"What happened before they came out here? Were you watching?"

"I was watching many things, Captain, I'm afraid I can't help much. Rider Cardell had been dancing with both the Lady Trischt and Lord Carding but he seemed to lose his balance at some point. Next thing I know they're lugging him out here to get some air. They seemed pretty concerned."

Mapstone frowned. With his reputation it was not so strange that Yates had been dancing with a lady, though admittedly she would have thought Trischt was a bit old for him. Whatever the reason Yates had ended up on the dance floor with Carding would no doubt make an interesting story, once this mess was sorted out.

"Fastion happened through on his way to his nightshift," Loyd continued. "He saw them come out here so he followed to see what was up. He came back in and told me it was food poisoning and that he was going to send a mender out."

"Much good that did… I assume you've had the patio below thoroughly checked?" asked Mapstone.

"Yes, Captain. Not a print to be seen down there."

"Well, at least we know he didn't hoist himself over the edge then."

Loyd's frown deepened and Mapstone pushed through the doors back into the warmth of the ballroom. Some Weapons remained, but most of the other Lords and Ladies had taken their leave. Something gnawed at the back of Mapstone's mind – the way these events were unfolding, what she knew of the people involved, all this pointed to major problems on several levels… But she could not consider these things until she'd talked to –

"Karigan!" she called. The young rider had just stepped into the ballroom from the main hallway and was looking around as if surprised the party was over. At her name, Karigan turned and frowned to see Mapstoone, then closed the distance between them at a trot.

"Captain! What's happening?"

"Where've you been?" Mapstone replied, a bit harsher than she'd intended.

"I was showing Itzak the stables…"

"Itzak? Who's Itzak?"

"The illusionist's assistant. Look, we were down in the courtyard and we heard some shouting. I figured it wasn't a big deal but…" Karigan gesture to Mapstone's nightgown, indicating that an emergency must be afoot._ She doesn't know._ Mapstone groaned. This did not bode well.

"Yates disappeared."

"Disappeared, what do you mean?"

"I mean he was just laying on that stone bench out on the balcony in front of five people and he just_ vanished._ I'd been hoping you were responsible…"

"What was he doing lying out on the balcony in front of five people?" asked Karigan, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

"Food poisoning, apparently," Mapstone replied, distracted.

"Pssht. Not likely. The smell of the appetizers alone was making him feel ill."

"Oh, I was so hoping it could just be food poisoning."

"What? Why?" asked Karigan.

"Captain. Rider G'ladheon," said a voice. They turned and found that Fastion had appeared at their sides. Mapstone unhappily noted that the Weapon's face betrayed a scrap of emotion – anger? concern? – which, naturally, made her nervous.

This was going to be a very long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **_**Sio, **__thanks for the review! Woo, another Fastion fan! Unfortunately I just found out that Fastion is not an easy character for me to write! He'll have to be included as more of a 3__rd__ person presence in the future. Consequentially, this is a super duper short chapter, but the next one is nearly done. _

* * *

**6: Fastion**

Fastion had just come over from the infirmary, which had been quiet this night. None of the castle's Green Riders, the loudest and most disruptive of patients, had been present when Fastion had gone down to visit, and Eugertha, the infirmary's most boisterous nurse, had been sent up to the ballroom. Healers Destarion and Ben seemed to have found the peace around them to their liking, naturally, but Fastion had been very much hoping to find at least one minor disturbance in the patient ward.

"I'm looking for Rider Yates Cardell," Fastion had said after having found healer Ben. Ben was not one to hide his emotions, and his face had immediately registered concern, finely laced with a bit of panic.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen him. What has happened?"

"He'd been up at the dance," Fastion had replied with a sigh, "and he took ill. I sent a healer up – "

"Oh, that's where Eugertha went off to…"

"Yes, but minutes later apparently Cardell disappeared."

"What, you mean like… like _Karigan_-disappear, or like slipped-away-disappear?"

"I haven't been able to question anybody yet. I was doing nightwatch by the king's quarters and I merely heard news from another Weapon. All they said was that Rider Cardell had disappeared. I'd been hoping Eugertha had just swept him off to the healing wing."

"Nobody has come in in the past hour," Ben had said, bewildered.

"As I had feared," Fastion had replied. "I'm not as concerned about the fact that he's disappeared as I am about the state he was in beforehand. I saw him while he was ill. He was on his side; he had a bad tremor in his arms but besides that was not moving. He met my eyes but could not speak. His skin was pale and lips seemed a bit blue, and his pupils seemed strange. They were very dilated, despite that I brought a torch up close to his face to see his condition. What does this sound like to you?"

"Poison, definitely a paralytic," Ben had said immediately, looking a bit sick himself.

"The man and woman who were with him told me they thought it was food poisoning. Could it have been a reaction? The kitchen put out some of those strange exotic fish dishes, you know…."

"Oh, I wish they wouldn't serve pufferfish, it's just too risky…" worried Ben. "Yes, that could have caused such a reaction but Yates doesn't like fish, he wouldn't have eaten any." The bit of personal information had seemed strange to Fastion for a moment, before he'd remembered that Ben was a Green Rider as well as a healer, and probably knew all about the gastronomic preferences of his fellow riders.

"If we find him, no doubt we'll be needing your assistance immediately," Fastion had told Ben, turning on his heel. "For now, please stay here. Someone's poisoned Cardell, who knows what else that person is capable of."

Fastion had taken all the shortcuts he knew to get to the ballroom quickly, and had been initially relieved to see that Mapstone and Karigan stood together talking, but Yates was still nowhere in sight, Karigan had worry scrawled across her face, and Mapstone looked about ready to murder someone.

"Captain. Rider G'ladheon," he said. They turned to see him, surprised. "I come from the infirmary. Cardell isn't there but I spoke with healer Ben. I have reason to believe someone gave him a paralytic."

"A what?" asked Karigan.

"He's been poisoned," Mapstone answered grimly. "I thought as much."

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter because it turns out writing from Fastion's POV makes me nervous. Weapons are too mysterious, I can't really imagine what their thought process would be like. I'll have to work on that. **


	7. Chapter 7

**7: Karigan**

Karigan listened as Fastion explained what he'd seen happen on the balcony, and what Ben had said. Mapstone replied with her own observations – how strange that the Rhovans had invited the Green Riders to the party, the funny feeling she'd gotten while talking with Lady Trischt and Lord Carding. With each word that was spoken, Karigan's heart fell deeper and deeper into her gut, while a well of anger rose to take her heart's place.

"Lord Carding," she began loudly, after Mapstone had finished. Fastion gave her a look and she checked herself. There were no Rhovans in the room any more but it wouldn't do to shout accusations across the chamber. "He was the one who wanted a rider present tonight. He sat down by me and was asking all sorts of questions about riders and their 'uncanny abilities', he called them. He asked me to dance at one point but Yates beat him to it, and I get the impression Carding didn't like that very much… Look, it's obvious what's happened, isn't it? We need to find Carding."

"Obvious?" said Mapstone. "Maybe, maybe not. You think Carding wanted one of you there so he could ask you about rider magic. When you ran off, he went after Yates, where he probably had similar lack of success… So poison Yates? Make him disappear? What's the point? If they wanted him dead to cover up what they'd asked him, they'd have done it more cleanly, I'm sure, and they would have gone after you, too, Karigan. If this is an _abduction_, surely there would have been a better way to make a person vanish. This was in plain sight, after all, in a public place. The Weapons got involved immediately. Highly suspicious. It doesn't make sense. Besides, Carding sounded just as surprised as the rest of the witnesses.

"And," continued Mapstone, "even though Carding was asking suspicious questions, if we come down on him for doing that, he'll _know _the Green Riders are trying to hide something from him."

"But he kidnapped Yates!" Karigan hissed.

"Perhaps," Mapstone said, "but without proof, we can't move."

"The Captain is right," said Fastion. "We must consider the political angle."

"Am I the only one that's considering the _humane _angle?" Karigan said, furious. "Yates isparalyzed, _someone _has made him vanish, and we have every reason to believe Carding is behind it. We _must _find and question Carding." She knew she had no right to be voicing her opinion so forcibly at her Captain and Fastion, but she didn't care. They hadn't had to sit through Carding's interrogations.

"Rider G'ladheon," Mapstone began, "I know you're concerned but there's more at stake here than one rider."

"But what if the Rhovans didn't _come _here to make trade agreements?" Karigan said, trying to keep the sizzle out of her voice. "What if they came here under the guise of making trade agreements with Sacoridia but really all they wanted was the secret to – "

"Captain Mapstone!" came yet another new voice, from the closest ballroom entrance, and Karigan's heart leapt up from where it had been wallowing. King Zachary wheeled into the room flanked by a handful of Weapons, as well as two white terriers who looked pleased as punch to be out and about on a midnight adventure. Zachary was, Karigan noted with amusement, garbed in a similar fashion as was Captain Mapstone – that is, he wore a long tunic over a nightrobe and slippers, and little else. Like Mapstone, he was carrying a blade.

Karigan may have imagined it but the king's face seemed to register an obvious degree of relief as his eyes swept over her.

"My king," Mapstone said, and seemed to search for words. "You're up," she finally said.

"Indeed. Sleep has not been easy this night. I heard the murmur of Weapons outside my door and decided to see what the noise was about. I was told that a rider has disappeared." He had come up to them now and stood with them in their circle; the Weapons marked out a ring around the little group.

Mapstone's eyes shifted briefly to Karigan. Karigan wondered if it were at all possible that the King of Sacoridia had leapt from his bed and ventured into the halls of his castle clad in nothing but sleepwear for the sole reason that he'd been worried that she, Karigan, had been the one who had disappeared.

_Idiot, _Karigan said to herself. Of course the king would have been just as concerned for any of the other riders.

"Rider Yates Cardell, my lord," Fastion said, when neither Mapstone nor Karigan responded, though he seemed reluctant to say anymore. Karigan didn't blame him. She'd just thrown around some rather heavy accusations. It was bad enough that she'd vented her anger to her Captain and the Weapon; confessing her suspicions to King Zachary would be another ball of wax altogether.

"This may take some explaining," said Mapstone. "Shall we find a place to sit?"

"No," said Zachary, surprising Karigan. "Please tell me now, what has happened?"

Mapstone started from the beginning, doing her best to reiterate all that had taken place in the past handful of hours. It wasn't a lot to report – only a handful of things had verifiably happened. The difficult parts were those things that nobody was sure about yet: What had Carding meant by asking Karigan all those questions about rider magic? What, if anything, did Lord Beuford think about all this? And where in five hells had Yates really gone? Finally, Mapstone repeated to Zachary the thoughts that Karigan had just expressed, though to Karigan's immense relief Mapstone did not tell Zachary that it had been Karigan that had expressed said thoughts.

After Mapstone had finished, Zachary planted his thumb and index finger squarely into his eye sockets and muttered quietly to himself about how nothing could ever be straightforward anymore, but he seemed to catch himself, and drew his hand from his face.

"The evidence seems to be telling us quite plainly that Rider Cardell has been poisoned and abducted, and it does seem as though we have likely suspects. What this means to Sacoridia and Rhovanny is the greater question. Like you mentioned, Captain, this would not be an accusation to make lightly. To offend any of the Rhovans will leave a sour taste in their mouths that could easily sway their decision to engage in mutually beneficial trade, and we know how important such a relationship will come to be. If what we fear has happened is indeed true, how many are involved? Was this the mission of an individual, or the end goal of the entire group?"

Zachary fell silent, and Karigan let herself relax somewhat. Zachary was at least considering the possibilities that she'd thought up. Little she knew of politics and how these things worked but it seemed only logical to consider from all angles, including the most disappointing ones. Zachary would no doubt feel quite betrayed if this whole trade agreement was simply a farce to acquire arcane knowledge of magic from the king's messengers, but better to face the possibility now than later on, when… When what? What would the Rhovans even _do _with the knowledge gained? What knowledge did they pursue, and how did they hope to acquire it?

Karigan shuddered. Yes, it was good to consider things from even the most unpleasant angles, but sometimes, all that seemed to do was incite unnecessary worries. Though it seemed as if Zachary, who had fallen to pacing, was not deterred from confronting these worries. One of his terriers followed him back and forth, tongue hanging out and oblivious to his master's consternation.

"I cannot see the logic in acting out right now, with nary a shred of evidence to back us."

"But – … My king," protested Karigan, "every moment of inaction could be a moment lost for Yates." At her words, a pained look crossed the king's features, and she lamented that she'd been the one to put it there.

"Rider G'ladheon, as much as it upsets me to say so, we must first act – or not act – in the best interests of Sacoridia, and second, in the best interests Rhovanny and of the relationship between the two countries."

"But don't you think their actions tonight are an indicator of how much honor they are willing to invest in a future relationship?... Your highness?" Karigan was getting frustrated – with Carding, with politics, with her worry for her friend, and with King Zachary, towards whom she still held a small amount of resentment, much as she hated to admit it. Though her other feelings towards him dwarfed her resentment on any other day.

"I agree with you, Rider G'ladheon," Zachary replied, and Karigan was humbled by the gentleness of his words. "A keen observation. Indeed, if they have harmed a person under my service, we have every reason to raise doubts about our future relationship and their current intentions. Do not doubt that we will act. But we will act in the best interests of the countries involved, and these actions sadly may not line up with actions we would have taken were our interests first in securing Rider Cardell's safety.

"I am only the king of Sacoridia," Zachary continued, pacing. "I cannot order the Rhovans to return our rider, if indeed they have taken him, unless I am prepared to use force. The use of force would almost certainly lead to them revoking our trade agreement and a cold border between Sacoridia and Rhovanny, if not future war, though I would hope that the latter would be unlikely; I would hope both countries involved would be wise enough to stand together against the coming of Mornhavon… But I can hardly expect them to return who they have taken were I to simply and respectfully request his return. If they've taken Rider Cardell, then they have committed a dishonest act, and I would expect them to respond to a peaceful accusation with more lies.

"And to publicly accuse?... What if Lord Beuford hasn't a clue? What if it is only one or two of the Rhovans who harbor ill intent? I would imagine that the supposed abductor has not done this merely for small amusement; it would be more likely that the end goal can be measured on a much, much larger scale. Why else would one go through the trouble of coming into this castle and pulling off such a heist for the sake of studying a deep power that few control and none understand? Do I then go willingly into such a situation knowing full well that my actions may incite hierarchical unrest? We all know what that may lead to."

_Civil war in Rhovanny_, thought Karigan. These were all far-fetched theories, but still they had to be considered. Yates would have had a good, long laugh had he known what a situation he had caused. Not that he had necessarily caused any of it, though by the way things were going, they were certain of nothing.

"Captain Mapstone, I would hear your thoughts on the matter now," Zachary said, tiredness bogging down his voice.

"Thus far I believe your conclusions to be sound," Mapstone responded. Karigan watched her closely; the Captain's face was set, but underneath it Karigan saw how disturbed she was with this situation. She knew that her words would directly influence the fate of one of her riders. As she continued, her discomfort became more evident. "In the interests of the countries involved…" Here Mapstone paused, as if realizing for the first time how quickly a small situation had escalated. "In the interests of the countries involved, I believe it would be wise for you not to confront any of the Rhovan entourage. I suggest that our next actions be for the purpose of discovering the source and reason of any ill intent, after which we would know what to do in response to our present situation."

"You are suggesting that our next actions be of the sneaky sort," Zachary said, as if asking for clarification.

"Yes, my king," Mapstone said, cocking an eyebrow at his language. Perhaps it was the late hour. Then Zachary surprised Karigan.

"I understand your concern for Rider Cardell. Please trust that I care for him as I do every person under my service."

"As your messenger and your servant, I understand your choices," she replied, surprising herself. _But as a friend of the missing, what am I going to do?_

* * *

A/N: **Yay political banter! **


End file.
